Thorns and Roses
by tammy1310
Summary: All roses, no matter how beautiful. No matter what shape or colour. And no matter how well they try hide it; All roses have their thorns. With the few rebel tributes by her side, Rosetta Snow is fighting back the Final Hunger games. But how far will she go to escape and survive the deadliest hunger games yet?


Heyo! It's Tammy again, bringing you my latest fanfiction! This is an Hunger Games fanfiction, set near the end of the final book! I'm so excited about it!

Warning: Dark themes throughout includes, death, violence, gore and other unpleasant things. And Disclaimer, I don't own anything, apart from my characters.

So without further a do! Chapter 1 of 'Thorns'

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I didn't know how long since we had been down there. The cold brick walls felt like they were trapping us, in the box-like cellar. The air was cold and held a chilling gust of wind. We sat huddled in the limited space, trying to block out the gale, but we were unsuccessful.

The last thing I remember, before being pushed down, was the frightened face of my parents and the passive face of my grandfather. Ever since then, the time passed in a haze. It felt like weeks we stayed huddled, but it was barely hours.

Hanging onto my arm, was Lillian; my sister. Just over 7, she was small for her age. Her long white hair tickled my shoulder and arms as she clung to me.

The distant noise of war and bombs, seemed like a illusion, as we sat in our peaceful sanctuary. Cold but safe... I thought to try an reassure myself.

Suddenly, the cellar doors were yanked open and four men stared through.

Behind them, I saw the once organised library, was now ransacked. The cupboards were thrown onto the floor and books had been tossed around like junk. The windows were shattered, glass shards lay on the floor, reflecting the amber sky. The rugs and wallpaper, ripped off the floor and walls, and the huge table that once dominated the room, was overturned, all precious belongings broken on the bare floor boards.

There was a yell of celebration from the soldiers as they dragged us by the hair, kicking and screaming, from our sanctuary.

I was pushed into the floorboards of the library, by a boot stamping on my back. The pain was terrible and I howled in response. Desperately, I tried to struggled but my arms were held behind my back. Trapped like prey. From the corner of my eye, I saw my sweet sister kicked to the floor like me.

"We only need the one! Kill the spare" someone jeered from across the room. I

Twisted around to see a dark haired man, knife out, advancing slowly. Something close to madness on his scarred face.

A voice filled my ear making me shiver. "Let's keep the oldest, she's a bit of cutie. Aren't you dearie? Too bad your the lowest scum I've ever seen, or I would have a go at that!" His voice was slurred and whispering. However the last sentence was yelled to his comrades and they all laughed around me. Echoing around the huge room.

A loud thud hit my ear, and turning my head, I glimpsed at Lillian. A huge man stood before her, a steel baseball bat raised in the air. It came crashing down, smashing onto her head. I cried out, struggling again but I couldn't stop it. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't...

"Please, take me instead! Don't hurt her! Lily! Lily!" I screamed my voice cracked and hoarse.

A trickle of blood ran down her hairline as my dying baby sister, cried silent tears... her once beautiful white hair was now stained red. A final hit and she shut her eyes, chest giving out, her soul slipping away. Blood was splattered on the bat and the man holding it, merely smirked.

"That's for my family, you dirty spawn."

He kicked her and spat at her body. His voice was of pure loathing.

I desperately wished to hold her body one last time, weeping and rocking her. Putting one of grandfather's roses in her hair, giving her a little toy rabbit she always kept with her, and then gentle lull her body into the forever slumber.

A voice snickered across the room.

"I feel more sorry for the older one, for what she's about to go through. the beating would have been a lot less painful!"

I screamed abuse at the as the sniggered. struggling against the man keeping me held captive. I screamed myself hoarse; calling them every name I could think of.

The leader, I think, spat at me and kicked the side of my head, causing my head to spin. He held an large gun, with two more on his back. His face was hidden behind a mop of black hair, but his eyes glared out, black eyes. That reminded me of a panther's eyes. Unforgiving and dangerous.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" He spat again, a with a roar, the troop dragged me out.

My spinning head, was becoming worse every step they hauled me. The last thing I remember before passing out, was the amber sky, bright with flames. A beacon of success; For the uprising...


End file.
